All According to the Master Plan
by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel
Summary: Harry is taken in at a young age by a psychopathic Time Lord planning to conquer Earth using the wizarding world, and his human wife. It’s a very different Harry Potter who comes to Hogwarts. Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover. Crack-ish.
1. Philosopher's Stone

**Title**: All According to the Master Plan

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Story Summary: **Harry is taken in at a young age by a psychopathic Time Lord planning to conquer Earth using the wizarding world, and his human wife. It's a very different Harry Potter who comes to Hogwarts. Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover. Probably counts as crack!fic.

**Author notes:**

_The Master's a bit OOC in this… oops. If I write any more of it I'll try to correct that._

* * *

**ALL ACCORDING TO THE MASTER PLAN**

**THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE**

* * *

_Sometime in 1987…_

The Master was in an irritated mood. Humans were stupid. Why did they have to prove it so often?

His attention was caught suddenly by a small boy on the street, gazing up at a man. The boy was dressed in shabby, stained clothing, and his hair was a mess, but behind the clumsily-mended glasses green eyes stared compellingly.

The Master watched in surprised amusement as the man handed over the contents of his wallet before the boy dashed into the nearest alley. The man seemed to come to himself and ran after him, shouting angrily, but the boy was gone.

The Master waited until the boy's victim was gone, then strolled into the alley.

"You're a precocious one, aren't you?" he grinned.

The boy looked up in shock and wariness from his hiding place.

"A human child, hypnotising passing fools? That's new. Tell me your name."

The last was said suddenly cold and compellingly.

The boy opened his mouth –and stopped. His eyes went wide.

"You can do it too?"

"Oh, I'm brilliant at it," the Master smirked. "The _Master_ of it, you could say. What's your name?"

The boy hesitated, gazing searchingly.

"Harry," he admitted finally.

The Master smirked further. The boy's name was Harry? Oh, that was amusing.

"Come with me, and I'll teach you how to use your ability properly," he said.

The boy went with him.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Lucy took an instant liking to the child.

"He had beautiful eyes," she noted.

"And his name's Harry," the Master grinned.

In the end they more or less adopted the boy. Lucy liked him and he satisfied her vague maternal instincts, and he proved to have an active intelligence which combined with his talents meant he had a great deal of potential which the Master was determined to use. Although sometimes it got a bit confusing with two Harrys, as Lucy still never called the Master anything but that name. Still, it was only a minor issue.

After a few weeks they discovered by accident that a natural gift for mental control wasn't Harry's only ability.

The Master rattled on jubilantly about psycho-kinetic projections of energy, and looked like he was going to dance, and kissed Lucy, before explaining to a bewildered and slightly apprehensive Harry exactly what it was he could do: magic.

By exploring some secret government-run sections of the internet that were supposed to be utterly off-limits to most of the population, the Master discovered that there was in fact an entire hidden world of magic users.

He also discovered, entirely by accident, that there was a lot more to Harry's history than any of them knew.

Harry was a useful resource indeed. Far too valuable to be wasted.

The Master began shortly thereafter to train Harry in everything remotely useful. Harry, and the wizarding world, was his key to ruling the planet. If Harry could gain control of the wizards, then the Master would have an army that none of the other humans could easily defeat – perfect for conquering the Earth.

Not even the Doctor would be able to stop him this time.

**o0o o0o o0o**

_Several years later..._

Harry said goodbye to Lucy and the Master, nodded dutifully at the pieces of advice he was given (mostly on how to win influence and manipulate people, although Lucy reminded him to make sure he ate healthily and wrote to her every week) and boarded the train.

Finding an empty carriage near the back, he settled down with some of his extra reading. He'd already read all of his school texts, as well as a whole lot of extra wizarding books that looked extremely useful – wizarding history, politics, dark magic, that sort of thing.

Harry was halfway through the first chapter of a book on mind magics when the door to the compartment opened.

"Mind if I sit in here? Everywhere else is full," said a gangling redheaded boy.

"As long as you're interesting," Harry replied, still immersed in his book.

"Um..."

Harry repressed the urge to roll his eyes and shut his book, pasting a smile on his face.

"Just sit down," he advised the boy, who lost his uncertain air and sat down.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he offered.

Harry held out his hand with a smile.

"Harry Potter," he introduced himself.

The boy – whom Harry was now quite sure was a moron – gaped at him unattractively.

"Blimey! Are you really?" He realised that Harry was still holding his hand out and flushed up to the tips of his ears. He shook hands in a lax, sweaty grip. Harry hid his disgust.

"Really," Harry affirmed, and politely went back to reading.

The boy proceeded to natter on at him stupidly about everything that entered his head, mostly about the wizard sport Quidditch and his large, boring family. Harry was seriously considering hypnotising him shut up when quite by accident Ron wandered onto a relevant topic: how everyone viewed Harry.

"My whole family's been in Gryffindor," Ron was talking about the impending Sorting. "I expect you'll be in Gryffindor too."

Harry's pretense of interest was suddenly genuine.

"Why?"

Ron looked at him as though it were obvious.

"Well, I mean, you defeated You-Know-Who," he told Harry. "You're a hero. Where else would you go?"

Harry nodded slowly.

"It makes sense."

Ron by this time thought them firm friends, and so ventured to ask:

"Do you remember any of it? Of – _Him_, I mean?"

"A little," Harry said soberly.

Ron lapsed into awed silence.

"Wow."

There was blessed quiet for the next several minutes as he watched Harry respectfully.

Then the door banged open.

"Excuse me, but have any of you seen a toad?" demanded an officious girl of about their own age with bushy hair. "Neville's lost one."

"No," Ron said rudely.

She frowned at him.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. Who are you?"

Harry brought up the charming smile and stood.

"Harry Potter," he held out a hand.

"Oh!" The girl was flustered, and shook his hand quickly. Then she recovered a bit. "Are you really? I've read all about you, of course."

"Have you? Well, I wouldn't put too much store by what they said. None of them have ever bothered to contact me about what happened, and I've had a look through most of them and some of their accounts of the night Voldemort fell, and they're pretty inaccurate. Pure speculation, mostly."

"Oh." The girl's face fell ludicrously.

"So, you've read most of the school texts, then?" Harry prompted.

"Oh yes, I've read all of them," Hermione cheered up. Harry heard Ron mutter "swot."

Harry smiled pleasantly.

"I have too. We'll have to discuss them some time. Have you read about Hogwarts houses?"

"Of course," Hermione said loftily. "I think Ravenclaw sounds interesting, don't you? But I hope I'm in Gryffindor. I heard that's where Dumbledore himself went."

Harry stored that away with the rest of the pertinent information.

"Was it? Well, it's supposed to be a house for bravery, and he _did_ defeat Grindelwald. I'm not entirely sure where I'll end up; after all, all of the houses have something to recommend them."

"Not Slytherin," Ron announced disgustedly. "Everyone who ever went bad was in Slytherin. Even You-Know-Who. It's full of dark wizards."

Harry made a mental note that clearly, he was to avoid being Sorted into Slytherin at all costs.

"That seems a bit exaggerated, Ron."

Cue the opening of the door. In swaggered a young blonde boy with two hulking boys on either side of him. He looked at the three occupants of the carriage, and dismissed Ron and Hermione as beneath his notice.

"Are you Harry Potter?" he demanded arrogantly.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"I am. And you are?"

"Draco Malfoy," the boy announced. There was a snort from Ron. Draco glared.

"No need to ask who _you_ are," he sniffed disdainfully. "Red hair, freckles, and hand-me-down clothing? You must be a Weasley."

"Are you usually this charming and well-mannered?" Harry asked, a sardonic note threading through his voice as Ron turned bright red.

Draco frowned at him.

"You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."

He held out a hand to Harry.

Harry shook it, but said,

"Thanks for the offer, Draco, but I don't think we have quite the same ideas about what exactly constitutes 'the wrong sort.' I hope that we can both get on well just the same," Harry said affably. He had to maintain his hero image, but all the same didn't want to lose the possibility of Draco's connections.

Draco clearly wasn't happy about being turned down, but in the face of Harry's smile wasn't sure how to respond.

"I'll see you later, Potter," he said unsurely, and left with his two goons.

"What an ill-mannered boy," Hermione said.

"True, but I don't see why I need to make enemies this early," Harry said. "I mean, we haven't even reached the school yet."

"You don't want to be friends with him," Ron muttered. "His father was a Death Eater."

Harry just shrugged.

"Well, I'd best continue looking for Neville's toad," Hermione said reluctantly. "I'll see you at Hogwarts."

She left the compartment, leaving Harry once again to read his book and try to ignore Ron while looking as though he was listening intently.

-

At Hogwarts, Harry looked around the Great Hall with calculating eyes. His gaze lingered on the teachers.

One of them was glaring at him; he didn't know what he'd done to incur their wrath, but they obviously disliked him.

Harry listened with amusement to the Hat's song and waited through the Sorting. Hermione Granger was Sorted into Gryffindor, as was the boy named Neville, who made the hall laugh when he first tripped over the stool, and then walked off still wearing the Sorting Hat and had to return to the front of the hall to give it back. Draco Malfoy was Sorted into Slytherin as soon as the Hat touched his head, and strutted off with a smirk. The boy had potential, Harry mused idly, but was surrounded by such a cloud of arrogance and expectation that it was doubtful such potential would be realised. He much preferred Hermione; while blunt and bossy, she had a sharp mind. Harry also just plain liked her better.

"Potter, Harry!"

As the murmurs started and all eyes turned to him, Harry strode forward with an air of quiet confidence.

The Hat settled down on his head and slipped over his eyes.

Harry felt the questing feel of the spells and let them find his mind.

"_What have we here?_" asked a dry voice. Then: _"You've been raised by a Time Lord?! Oh great Ceridwen, we're in trouble!" _The horror settled down into a more contemplative tone. "_Albus doesn't know what he's got himself into on this one. So, where shall I sort you?_"

"_Gryffindor would be preferable," _Harry returned. _"Not Slytherin, at all costs."_

"_Really?"_ There was a sly note in the Hat's voice. "_You're practically a model Slytherin. It could help you on your way to greatness."_

"No. _At this point Slytherin would only hinder it,"_ Harry said calmly. _"Not Slytherin." _

"_Hmph. Very well. Ravenclaw would suit you nearly as well. But Gryffindor?" _There was a pause. "_Perhaps it would do well for you after all. That kind of influence would bring out some of your better aspects that have been submerged until now. Very well. _GRYFFINDOR!_" _

Harry replaced the Hat on the stool and joined the Gryffindor table, smiling warmly. A couple of red-haired clones were yelling "we got Potter!" and doing some sort of stationary victory dance.

Harry sat next to Hermione and smiled a genuine smile.

All good on the master plan so far.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Harry soon settled into life at Hogwarts. He'd seen and heard some odd stuff living with the Master and Lucy, so wizard life didn't faze him much.

He did his best to life up to the 'heroic Gryffindor' role without doing anything stupid, or cutting out anyone useful. He walked a fine line with Draco Malfoy, cultivating that acquaintance without making anyone shake their heads darkly and mutter about snakes. Harry's blandly impartiality on house affiliation was useful here; everyone knew by now that Harry wouldn't reject anyone based on their house as long as they behaved reasonably well. Unfortunately Malfoy was a bumptious little cretin who was far too blatant about his prejudices, which made it difficult for Harry. Moron Weasley was another close-minded bigot, albeit a more socially-acceptable one, but he didn't have the brains or the ambition of Draco.

As for the rest of Hogwarts, Harry established ties where he could, as the likeable, friendly Golden Boy. In particular Hermione Granger, while socially inept, was a brilliant mind with a crusading instinct. She was horribly annoying at times, but Harry was slowly working on her flaws. Give her a few years and she'd be a fantastic right-hand minion.

Harry's classes presented a nice challenge, although he had grave problems with two f the teachers: Snape, and Quirrell.

Snape, it was established in his first potions lesson, hated Harry's guts. Harry dealt with it coolly, putting on a false righteously outraged act at the way Snape treated him while actually dealing with the professor in a calculating and careful manner. More concerning was the way that Snape had tried repeatedly to gain entry to Harry's mind. The other students might apostrophise him as a greasy old bat, but Harry knew that he was a dangerous man, and far too shrewd for Harry's liking. He was contemplating hypnotising the man, but wasn't sure if even his skills, honed as they were, would be good enough.

Quirrell was an entirely different problem. If Harry was correct, and the Master had taught him how to put things together, then the man was harbouring the shade of the dark lord Voldemort.

Harry couldn't have that. There was only one person going to rule the wizarding world, and it was him. No sorry excuse for a dark lord was going to ruin his plans.

So Harry investigated.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Over Christmas Harry returned to Lucy and the Master. They tended to change residences regularly, living unsuspected in untenanted apartments or hypnotising the landlord into letting them live there for free. For the Christmas holidays they'd acquired residence in a nice roomy house, with three bedrooms and two bathrooms. Harry spent the holidays catching up on his training, and listening to the Master update his plans.

"How are things going at Hogwarts?" the Master wanted to know.

Harry frowned in thought.

"I'm doing my best to cement my hero image and gain everyone's trust; it's working fairly well so far although Dumbledore will be an obstruction once I graduate. At the moment there's a teacher called Snape who I may need to hypnotise, only I don't know whether I'm good enough at it yet. Also, Voldemort's spirit is possessing one of the other teachers."

The Master's expression darkened. He _hated_ opposition.

"Is he going to be a problem?"

"Not at the moment," Harry said.

At this point Lucy came in to ask Harry whether he wanted to come shopping with her. Harry enjoyed her company, and didn't mind proffering advice on anything from whether a given piece of clothing complemented Lucy's complexion, to whether or not the Master would like to own some gadget Lucy had spotted. Harry also knew how to make the ATMs dispense free money using magic.

"Lucy my little ape, you are interrupting an important conversation. He can go shopping with you later. Go away."

Lucy went away again, unperturbed.

"I can take care of him at the moment," Harry continued, "but we need to find a way to kill him properly. If he ever gets resurrected he'll be major competition – I mean, we could handle him, but he'd mess up our plans."

"Find out what you can. Keep winning people to your side. I'll think about the problem," the Master said. "Now go keep my dear wife company as she shops." He smirked. "Brush up on your skills. Shoo, you little scamp. I have things to do."

On Christmas day Harry anonymously received an invisibility cloak that had apparently once belonged to his father, which would make things easier. He wasn't sure who had sent it, but suspected Dumbledore.

At the end of the holidays he returned to school, ready to resume the operation to slowly win power and influence in the wizarding world.

**o0o o0o o0o**

One night Harry discovered an old, ornately-framed mirror in an abandoned classroom. There was an inscription around the edge: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

"I show not your face but your heart's desire," Harry murmured, working out the puzzle in his head.

He moved closer.

Reflected in the mirror was himself, much older, thin and muscular and with a hard dangerous look in his focused green eyes. Hermione stood slightly behind him with a hand on his arm, her own eyes fierce and determined. On the other side next to Harry the Master was laughing, standing in a triumphant pose, the malice and murderous madness shining out of his eyes. Next to him stood Lucy, smiling absently; standing slightly apart from all of them was a brown-eyed little blonde girl, wide-eyed and solemn, holding a set of technical sketches. She was watching Harry with an impassive, speculative gaze, which held a hint of something darker and more possessive.

Interesting, Harry thought.

He returned a couple more times to gaze at the vision, noting details and logging them away.

The third night a voice suddenly asked,

"Back again, Harry?"

Harry turned in unfeigned surprise to see the headmaster. The blue eyes were kindly and twinkling, but Harry knew that the depths below held much more than the grandfatherly benevolence they presented.

"I didn't see you, sir."

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," Dumbledore commented, smiling. Harry marked down his theory as confirmed; it was indeed Dumbledore who had sent him the cloak at Christmas. "So," Dumbledore continued, joining Harry by the mirror, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

Harry's brain automatically ran the name through a possible-meanings filter and came up with the answer: 'desire,' written backwards, just as the mirror's inscription was.

"I expect you've realised by now what it does?" Dumbledore inquired, seeming genuinely curious.

Harry looked back into the mirror, at the vision of a possible future.

"It shows us our desires."

"Well done," Dumbledore was apparently pleased that he'd worked it out. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge nor truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. The mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If ever you do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

Harry took one last, long look at himself and Hermione, the Master and Lucy and the child, and turned away.

"Goodnight, professor." For a moment he was going to ask what the headmaster saw, but decided against it.

**o0o o0o o0o**

By the end of the year Harry had a pretty good idea what was going on with Voldemort. He and his sidekicks – Hermione the brain, Neville the moral support, and Ron the idiotic comic relief – bumbled about in heroically investigative style, Harry prompting the others until they came to the correct conclusion on their own.

When Quirrell made his move, Harry made a heroic speech to his friends about stopping evil, and went down to confront him.

Harry walked through the flames to see Quirrell eyeing himself in a familiar mirror.

"Voldemort," he greeted him.

Quirrell whirled in shock.

"Potter!"

"I'm going to stop you," Harry informed him.

Quirrell laughed and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry cut him off.

"I'm not talking to you," he said coldly. "You are of no importance, merely a weak pawn. I address Voldemort."

"Let me speak to him," hissed a wraithlike voice. "Face to face…"

"Master," Quirrell was suddenly scared and unsure, confidence gone, "you are not strong enough…"

"I have strength enough for this."

Quirrell unwrapped his turban and presented the back of his head, to reveal a frightening, unnatural face with red eyes and flat slits for nostrils and a mere slit of a mouth.

"See what I have become?" Voldemort demanded. "Mere shadow and vapour… I have form only when I can share another's body…"

"You're a washed-up failure of a Dark Lord," Harry snorted.

Voldemort hissed in anger.

"Impudent, insolent boy… yet you might be useful. Think, boy. Join me… there is no good or evil, only power, and those too weak to seek it…"

Harry laughed. It was a cold, amused, malicious laugh like one of the Master's without the madness, and it rang around the chamber, echoing off stone and making Voldemort pause suddenly, sensing a misstep.

"Why on earth would I seek it from you when I have it already?" Harry gave a cruel smirk. "_Reducto!_"

He'd aimed at the forehead.

He watched the corpse fall to the floor and Voldemort's presence dissipate. Then he walked over to the mirror and stared into it for a moment.

A minute later he pulled a blood-red stone out of his pocket, looked at it amusedly, and waited for the headmaster to arrive as he concocted a tale of great daring and bravery.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Harry said goodbye to his friends, promising to write and to visit when he could, then walked over to where Lucy stood waiting, smiling gently.

"Did you have a nice time at school?" she asked Harry, pulling him into a hug which he returned happily.

"Fantastic." He'd noticed some changes in her figure during the hug. "Do you have an announcement?"

Lucy smiled.

"I'm having a baby."

Harry smiled, genuinely happy for her.

"Congratulations."

"Harry was delighted. Come along, Harry. We have plans."

* * *

**END**

…**for now**

_cue evil laugh_


	2. Chamber of Secrets: Holidays

**Title**: All According to the Master Plan

**Author:** TardisIsTheOnlyWaytoTravel

**Story Summary: **Harry is taken in at a young age by a psychopathic Time Lord planning to conquer Earth using the wizarding world, and his human wife. It's a very different Harry Potter who comes to Hogwarts. Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover. Probably counts as crack!fic.

**

* * *

**

**ALL ACCORDING TO THE MASTER PLAN**

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS**

**PART ONE**

* * *

When Harry rejoined Lucy and the Master at their latest residence – a small apartment which turned out to be much bigger on the inside – it was to find the Master tinkering intently with a strange piece of equipment that he had clearly built from other bits of machinery.

He left to his feet and whirled on Harry.

"Harry!" He was in one of his energetic manic moods. "How would you like to be a Time Lord?"

Harry considered.

"What's in it for you?"

The Master smirked.

"At this moment, there are two Time Lords in existence. One of them is me, and the other is a hyperactive, gabbling nitwit with a hero complex and the attention span of a five year old _human_ child. Honestly, I never liked the other Time Lords, but even _they_ would be preferable to being alone with _him_. You'd make a tolerable assistant, and since you're not entirely stupid as a human I expect you'd be reasonably intelligent as a Time Lord, unlike that gibbering _lunatic_ that calls himself the Doctor. Oh, and you're not particularly likely to join all that is good and noble, etcetera etcetera, or attempt to overthrow me, or join with my enemies or any of the other things on the long list of irritating things that _always_ seem to happen when I bring someone in on my plans."

The Master was perilously close to whinging by the end, as he reflected on the unfairness of the universe.

Harry thought about what the Master had said, and everything he hadn't.

"I accept."

"Hah! Fantastic!" The Master darted across to his odd machine, grinning triumphantly.

"Just one thing," Harry suggested carefully. "What do you think of the idea of Lucy becoming a Time Lord, too?"

The Master went completely still and stared at Harry, face going blank and unreadable, while Lucy gazed at Harry in mild surprise.

"I mean, she adores you and does everything you say, and that's not likely to change just because she's a Time Lord, is it? She'll probably be useful. Besides, if the two of you had enough kids, you can repopulate the universe with Time Lords that think like you do. Imagine the Doctor's reaction."

Harry watched the Master warily. When he got that blank expression, he could do anything, from exploding into rage to practically bouncing with exuberant energy. Problem was, there was no way to predict exactly what reaction he'd respond with.

The Master eyed Lucy calculatingly, and a small smirk appeared.

"Lucy, my love, how would you like to be a Time Lady?" he suggested, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking into her eyes to gauge her feelings on the matter.

Lucy blinked up at him thoughtfully, and frowned slightly.

"Will it hurt the baby?"

The Master's face lit up jubilantly as the question pointed out something he'd overlooked.

"Oh, not only will it not hurt the baby, it'll enhance it," he told her. "Biologically it'll become fully Time Lord. Not a human gene left. The first baby Time Lord in Rassilon knows how long now. I'll have to make some minor adjustments, but ha! I'll be the father of a true Time Lord child!"

There was still a slight crinkle between Lucy's brows, but she nodded compliantly.

"I'd like that, Harry."

"Excellent! Harry, you can undergo conversion now," the Master ordered. He waved Harry over, and fitted a kind of headpiece over Harry's skull. Harry watched in inward trepidation as the Master grinned in a most un-reassuring way and pulled a lever.

Harry screamed. He didn't stop. His scream went on and on, unwavering.

Fire sped blazing through his veins, changing him as it went. Harry was in utter, absolute agony, but he wouldn't have stopped it for the world. He was finally alive.

Quite suddenly the fire burnt itself out. Harry stood still for a long moment. Then he reached up to remove the headpiece, and finally his eyelids slid back so that he could look at the room with changed eyes.

Finally, he understood. As he looked slowly around, he could feel the dance of Time around him, its utter complexity and ordered, chaotic beauty. He realised with faint surprise that his mind was now filled with concepts and notions that were completely new, yet oddly familiar and – there was no other world for it, really – _right_. Harry had previously thought that he was intelligent, and cunning, but now he realised that between a human and a Time Lord there could be no comparison.

Harry looked at the Master.

He could feel the other Time Lord's mind. The Master was a lot saner than he seemed, for all he was mad – madness in Time Lords wasn't as insane as in humans, it seemed, or maybe it was just different.

Beneath the façade that humans saw, the Master was ancient and impossibly powerful, a deep well of malevolence and utter amorality and malign intelligence that would have badly frightened Harry except that he could feel just as a deep a well of potential for power inside of himself. It was awing, and Harry properly understood for the first time just how the Master could look at humans like they were flies, or something, and how much sense, when you were so much greater than anything else could more than dimly perceive, it made to simply reach out and take what you wanted.

Perversely, his respect for the Master's arch-enemy went up a little even as contempt for him coloured Harry's mind. He'd never met the man, but how could you possibly be so – so _democratic_, so to speak, about things when you were a Time Lord? It was baffling.

"How do you feel?" the Master asked in anticipation.

Harry pondered this.

"Like a being of _phenomenal cosmic powers_," he intoned after a moment, deadpan.

The Master chortled at the quote. He was oddly obsessed with pop music and children's television and movies. Harry doubted there was another alien on the planet so immersed in Earth pop culture.

The Master smirked and turned to Lucy.

"Come here," he commanded. Lucy came forward obediently, with a tinge of nervousness in her eyes, and the Master settled the headset for the Chameleon Arch – how did he know that? The Master must have set the machine to give him a basic set of knowledge as well as convert him – onto her head, connecting up a range of small sensors as well. Then –

Harry winced at the screaming. After a couple of minutes, the sound cut off abruptly and Lucy suddenly went still.

Her eyes opened, and she blinked gently.

Harry felt her poke curiously at his mind, like a child who upon finding a snail, pokes it with a stick to see what happens. He poked back, a bit more forcefully, but reasonably gently.

"Oh my," Lucy said, in tones full of subdued wonder. After a moment, she added, "This is different."

She sent a look of wonder and gratitude, and oddly, some worry at the Master, smiling at him.

"_Will_ you stop poking like that?" the Master demanded, irritated with the continuing prods at his mind. "Yes you can feel my mind, it's not going anywhere."

Harry found himself in a playful mental battle with Lucy, the two new Time Lords jabbing back and forth at each other's minds, delighted with the new capacity to do it.

The Master snorted in disgust.

"Infantile idiots."

Lucy just smiled gently, a hint of mischief in her eyes, and Harry grinned as the two of them both poked at the Master's mind at once.

There was a forceful mental slap delivered to each of them, and Harry and Lucy went back to poking each other and left the Master's mind alone.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Harry and Lucy were in Harrods.

The Master was finally arranging for a place of their own, now that a baby was on the way. He'd set up some complex computer algorithm that took tiny amounts of money from other people's accounts and dumped it in his own – all untraceable, of course – and within a few weeks they'd have enough for a proper house, or perhaps one of the more expensive flats in London. He and Lucy hadn't yet decided.

While the Master was busy searching for somewhere to buy, Lucy and Harry decided to go shopping for baby things. The baby was several months away yet, but it wouldn't hurt to have some of the necessary items on hand already.

So Harry was examining a cot Lucy had asked his opinion on, trying to decide whether it was dignified, or forbidding (to Lucy, everything had an emotional impression, no matter how subtle) when there was a delighted shout of "Harry!"

Harry turned to see Hermione nearby, beaming, standing with an older woman with slightly more tamed hair.

"Hermione!" Harry grinned at her, and the next minute received a faceful of hair as Hermione flung herself at him.

Lucy and Hermione's mother waited patiently as the two children greeted each other.

"What are you doing here?" Hermione asked excitedly. "We came to get something for my cousin's baby shower, I never expected to see you!"

Harry smiled, and indicated Lucy.

"Shopping for baby things. Lucy, this is my friend Hermione, Hermione this is one of my guardians, Lucy."

"Oh!" Hermione blushed slightly. "I'm so sorry! It's a pleasure to meet you. This is my mum. Mum, this is Harry and his guardian."

"Violet Granger," Hermione's mother introduced herself, holding out a hand. Lucy shook it.

"Lucy Magister," the Time Lady replied, a faint smile on her lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you." She turned to Hermione.

"So you are Harry's friend." Blue eyes flickered over the girl, suddenly sharp and fiercely intelligent, before melting back into the usual placid look.

"Er, yes," Hermione agreed, faintly nervous at meeting her best friend's guardian.

Lucy just gave her a soft smile.

"It's good to know that Harry is making friends. He's never had much of an opportunity for companionship, I'm afraid; my husband is a little reclusive, and I'm quite happy to interact only with my family, not to mention that as famous as Harry is there has always been a risk that people will use him." Harry felt Lucy's amusement like a bright and solid thing, as she knew as well as he did that the Master, however genuinely fond of Harry he might be, only kept people around because they were useful. This, however, was not entirely uncommon among Time Lords, unlike many of the Master's other traits.

"And Harry has always been brighter than most other children." She looked at Violet. "I was hoping that perhaps we could arrange for the children to get together at some point, to give them a chance to socialise."

Hermione bounced on her toes as an idea occurred to her.

"We're not doing anything else today, Mum! Harry could come over to our house for the afternoon!"

Violet Granger hesitated, seeing how excited Hermione was by the idea.

Harry immediately did his best to look like an excited child, making his green eyes big and shining, but with an edge of anxiety that suggested he would be utterly crushed by a negative answer. He was very attached to Lucy and the Master, but it would be nice to get a break from the constant run of television shows, the maniacal rants, discussions of whether magenta was really a suitable colour for a baby's room, traditional or not, and the spontaneous dancing. He enjoyed it all, of course, but it could get a bit wearying. Harry was only a very young Time Lord, after all.

All it took was a brief exertion of his by-now sophisticated ability for mental control, and Violet gave in.

"All right," she said with an exaggerated sigh, and Hermione let out a squeal and Harry smirked in satisfaction.

The two women sorted out details, and when the group had finished shopping Harry went home with Hermione.

Hermione's bedroom was impressive; one wall had a bed up against it, and the other had a window in the middle, but the one free wall was almost totally obscured by a magnificent wooden bookcase, that stretched from floor to ceiling. To Harry's surprise, it was only two shelves full; despite the massive shelf size, Harry would have thought that Hermione would have managed to have stored more books in it.

"I get a shelf every two years," Hermione explained when he asked, "and any books I buy or receive in those years all have to fit on the shelf, otherwise I have to get rid of some." She patted the shelf with two books on it. "I've just started the shelf for the next two years."

Harry gazed at the bookcase enviously, and made a mental note to request one like it once the Magisters had a permanent home. Come to think of it, he could probably use a computer, too.

Leaning closer to get a good look at some of the titles on Hermione's bookcase, his eyes widened in surprised joy.

"You've got Shockwave Rider!" he exclaimed in delight, snatching the book off the shelf and examining it. "This is marvellous! I didn't think it was still in print! Have you ever read the theory it was based on, '_Future Shock'_, Alvin Toffler? Brilliant!"

Still clutching the book he ran his gaze along all the other titles.

"Ooh, and look at this, this is fabulous, you've got _'Protector'_, and what's this – '_A Brief History of Time!' _" He flipped through it, scanning it at super speed even as he kept talking the entire time. "Would have thought it was a bit advanced even for you, still no reason not to get started early even if you don't quite grasp all the physics to start with, good book, nice foundation to work on. This is all just _fantastic!_"

It was at this point that Harry realised that Hermione was simply gaping at him, and he'd been going on at a million miles per hour like the Master did in one of his fits of manic eloquence.

"Ah, and I'm blathering on a bit, aren't I?" he observed, giving a faintly sheepish, wry smile, and politely put the books back on the shelf in the exact places he'd taken them from. "Sorry. I like books. Especially ones on advanced physics."

Hermione was still gaping at him.

"I don't understand half that stuff," she said. "You… you understand physics?"

Harry scratched the back of his head and gave her a sunny grin.

"A fair bit, yeah."

Hermione's eyes lit up, and Harry found himself spending most of his afternoon explaining basic physics to his friend. It was all rather tedious, as for him it was ludicrously simple concepts she was grappling with, but it proved again that she was reasonably intelligent, for a human. And if her intelligence could be stimulated now, with things more complex than were usually taught to human children her age, then she could be taught even more complex things later, and that meant she could be even more useful.

Halfway through the afternoon Violet came upstairs to see if Harry and Hermione wanted any afternoon tea, and stood in the doorway, mouth open, for a good ten minutes as Harry finished explaining the Theory of Relativity, and moved on to explaining the Schrodinger's cat thought experiment.

Harry finished his explanation and turned politely to Violet.

"Mrs Granger?"

The woman was still staring, looking quite stunned. Hermione's bounce-back quality was clearly genetic however as she gathered her composure quickly despite her astonishment.

"Would either of you like some afternoon tea?"

Hermione perked up.

"Can we have some of the monte carlo biscuits?" she asked eagerly. Seeing her mother's frown, she added, "it's a special occasion, Mum! Harry's here!"

"All right," Violet agreed reluctantly. "But make sure you clean your teeth very well tonight."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I always do!"

As the two children sat and ate biscuits and milk, Hermione spoke.

"So how has your summer been?" she asked, a little guiltily. "I didn't really ask."

Harry sent her an amused glance.

"You were a bit excited, weren't you?"

Hermione looked sheepish, and nodded.

"It's been going pretty well," Harry said. "It's… nice, to be back with my guardians, if slightly insane – eccentric geniuses doesn't even begin to cover it – and we're going to move into our own place, because of the baby. I'm looking forward to that. How about you?" he added.

"It's been all right, I suppose," Hermione said thoughtfully. "We had a get-together with my aunts and uncles and cousins, which was unfortunate, because they're not very nice people and none of my cousins are very bright, and I always find it rather trying to deal with them." She sniffed, conveying her opinion of them without words.

Harry gave her an evil grin.

"Tell you what," he said coaxingly, a mad, nasty smirk stealing over his face, and he was starting to suspect that the Master had used his own DNA as the Chameleon Arch's baseline, "I'll make sure that next time you see them you'll be able to give them a 'I am the king of science and you are all ignorant peons' lecture that makes you look like a brilliant queen of awesome."

Hermione gave him a faintly sceptical look, despite looking intrigued.

" 'Brilliant queen of awesome?' " she repeated dubiously, clearly questioning his English skills.

Harry had already run his own words back through his mind, wondering where that had come from.

"I think Harry's addiction to television is affecting me," he said with a frown.

"What?"

Hermione looked confused.

Harry grinned.

"My guardian's name is also Harry," he explained kindly. "It gets confusing sometimes at home, when Lucy's talking to both of us." He changed his voice to mimic her accent. "_Harry, stop fiddling with your experiment, and Harry, haven't you watched enough _Super Ted_? The theme song is becoming tiresome_."

Hermione gave Harry an incredulous look.

"You watch _Super Ted?_"

Harry sniggered.

"Nope, Harry does. He's addicted to children's television."

Although Harry could kind of understand the obsession, now; it just said _so much_ about humans.

Although, that didn't mean that Harry was going to become addicted himself. He had limits.

Although, _The Trap Door_ was pretty fantastic. Part-children's show, part-parody, and a cheerfully impervious Yorkshireman of a Dark Lord's monstrous servant. Yep. It was great.

Hermione gave Harry a blank look.

"Your _guardian_ watches _Super Ted_?"

Harry gave another grin, one with a hint of malice in it.

"I said that eccentric geniuses didn't begin to cover it. So," he finished his last biscuit, "how do you feel about a brief introduction to the Uncertainty Principle?"

When Harry got home late that afternoon he sought out the Master, who turned out to be sitting in the bathroom, a folding table in front of him, scribbling in the concise circles that made up the Time Lord's written language.

Harry peered at the nearest arrangement of circles, able to read them upside down without trouble. Something about energy conversion…

The Master's hand snapped out, gathering the papers towards him so that Harry couldn't read them any more.

"Why are you working in the bathroom?" Some questions had to be asked.

The Master scowled, looking disgruntled.

"It's the only place I can get any _peace_," he snapped. "Lucy's driving me up the wall with all these baby questions. I mean, what does it _matter_ what an infant Time Lord's subconscious response to representations of small furry animals is?"

Harry hid a grin; it wouldn't be a good idea to let the Master see his amusement, even if the other Time Lord could feel it easily enough.

"You used your own DNA for the Chameleon Arch, didn't you?" he asked instead.

The Master looked up with a satisfied smirk. As far as Harry could tell, he was feeling pleased that Harry had worked it out.

"Oh yes," he said smugly. "And do you know what that makes you, Harry Potter? That makes _you_ my nephew."

Harry's eyebrows rose as he thought about that one.

Then he smirked back.

"It's like we're one great big happy megalomaniac family," he sniffed, pretending to sound deeply touched.

The Master laughed, madly and boisterously.

**o0o o0o o0o**

Harry visited Gringott's bank later that week.

He intended to get some money out and buy his school books while he was at the alley, but that wasn't why he was here.

He and Lucy were Time Lords now, but all anyone needed to do was open the watch while they were nearby, and they'd be back to being silly little humans again. Not that Harry had been especially stupid, even if he didn't meet Time Lord standards, but he'd much rather remain a Time Lord.

It took him half an hour, but when Harry left his vault, the two fob watches were hidden beneath both a perception filter and a powerful notice-me-not charm, disillusioned, and hidden in a dusty corner of the vault.

**END CHAPTER**


End file.
